


Unconditionally

by zacekova



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Banana Fish Valentines 2019, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e10 Babylon Revisited, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied Ace Okumura Eiji, Introspection, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Polyamory, Reflection, Shorter Wong Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacekova/pseuds/zacekova
Summary: He thinks Eiji started it, even though he met Shorter first, begrudgingly allowed Shorter’s energetic friendship first, decided he trusted him enough to keep him around and tell himsomethings, some kind-of-important things,sometimes,in some cases, when he needed to tellsomeone.But Eiji, with his endearing pout and his childish playfulness and his open, easy trust - Eiji started this, thisthingwhere Ash lets them climb into his bed and rummage through his head and settle inside hisheartlike it’s okay, like he wants them there, like theybelong.





	Unconditionally

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> For Val_Creative. You gave me lots of options for themes and pairings. I went with ShorAshEiji, Fluff, lazy sleepy mornings being with each other, and hurt/comfort. This is my first time writing these three so I ended up with a bit of origin story, too, as I tried to flesh out how I envision the three of them together in this universe. 
> 
> Also, I’m not sure where Ace!Eiji came from, I don’t headcanon him that way, it just seemed to fit with the story I was trying to tell. It’s only very loosely implied, too, because it’s not _super_ important to the “plot,” but I like to cover all my bases and tag for everything I can think of.

Ash hasn’t woken so slowly, so lazily, as he is this morning since… since ever, probably. Infancy was filled with squalling desperation for attention, for milk, for needs needs needs, and in his childhood Ash bubbled with constant bursts of speed and fun and _life_.

Everything after that was fear, was danger, was hiding - hiding, hiding, hiding from everything, hiding his thoughts and his voice and his dreams and his terror. Everything after childhood was praying to gods he never believed in for help before finally saying ‘fuck it’ and standing up to _fight_. Because fuck hiding; he was always found anyway.

Ash hasn’t taken longer than an instant to join the world of the waking since long before he can remember.

And it’s strange, strange like dreaming; strange like _still_ dreaming - everything hazy; slow like syrup and just as sweet. The sunlight spilling from the window is gossamer webs, strung through the air in delicate filaments of gold and heat. It rests over Ash’s face and limbs in a blanket of light weight and warmth, all comfort and gentle coaxing to face the day with open eyes and energy. The mattress underneath him feels like heaven - soft and plush - and the bodies hemming him in are familiar and soothing and _safe_ . Ash burrows into it, into _them_ , into this perfect, blissful cradle, soaking it in, pressing his face into Shorter’s soft, purple hair and wrapping his fingers around the ones Eiji has draped over his waist. He wants to get _inside_ these two people who looked inside _him_ and decided they liked him, saw someone worth protecting, worth caring for, worth... _loving_.

And somehow, for some reason, Ash _let_ them.

He thinks Eiji started it, even though he met Shorter first, begrudgingly allowed Shorter’s energetic friendship first, decided he trusted him enough to keep him around and tell him _some_ things, some kind-of-important things, _sometimes_ , in some cases, when he needed to tell _someone_.

But Eiji, with his endearing pout and his childish playfulness and his open, easy trust - Eiji started this, this _thing_ where Ash lets them climb into his bed and rummage through his head and settle inside his _heart_ like it’s okay, like he wants them there, like they _belong_ . Eiji, who trusted Ash, who just wanted to _be_ with Ash - Ash _and_ Shorter, inexplicably, unexpectedly, astoundingly. Eiji, who wanted to be around him for no other reason than he liked Ash’s company, took them _both_ by the hand when he saw how they were around each other and brought them to the start of this road with a bright, encouraging smile.

And like moth to warm flame, like a parched throat to a bright oasis, like the tiny, unexplainable magics of the world Ash hears about but never understands - can’t understand because none of them happen to _him_ \- Eiji’s genuine, unashamed affection and friendship pulled him in. Ash has never let himself be controlled like that before, never knowingly chosen to walk toward a power he didn’t understand and surrender himself to it. Ash Lynx walks toward glaring, burning lights - soul-sucking monsters - because he understands them, because he can _use_ them and twist them and manipulate them until they offer up a compensation for their charge that he’s willing to pay.

But he isn’t controlled by them, doesn’t let himself be manipulated in return like an ignorant chump. He makes calculated, cost-effective sacrifices to survive and it’s been years since he felt truly powerless.

But Eiji. Eiji made Ash feel powerless, for a while. Eiji, Ash didn’t - _doesn’t_ \- understand, because Eiji doesn’t _want_ anything, he doesn’t charge anything to keep Ash around, doesn’t even seem to realize he should, that that’s what people _do_. And Ash doesn’t understand because everyone wants something from him.

Even Shorter.

Shorter, whose eyes light up just like Eiji’s do when Ash walks into the room, but also burn like embers, like stoked coals in a lingering fire, like warm, hungry, eager desire. Shorter, who keeps Ash’s secrets and steals Ash’s pretzels and lets Ash borrow his bike and chases Ash down to hand over the tin of _tanghulu_ that he _“forget to give to you earlier, sorry, Nadia made some last night_ . _”_ Shorter _wants_ , has for a while, and it didn’t feel quite the same as the _others_ , but Ash couldn’t figure out why for the longest time.

Not until Eiji. Because Eiji just wants to be with Ash, wants to protect him, and he doesn’t want anything else - _truly_ , anything at all - unless Ash wants it too. It took a long time to accept that, to really believe it, even though he still can’t understand how it’s possible at all. But because he did, because it got easier to be in Eiji’s orbit - incapable of breaking free and being okay with _not wanting to_ \- that Ash finally turned to look Shorter in the eye and realized that though _his_ wanting was always present and not dependent on Ash’s reciprocation either, it had no more _demand_ to it, no more expectation or pressure or need than Eiji’s simple wish to be by his side.

Eiji wanted - wants - to be with him. Shorter wanted to be with him and Shorter _wanted_ him, but he would never, _ever_ have done anything about it if Ash hadn’t wanted him to. He was just as happy and content as Eiji to simply stay at Ash’s side.

It’d been like a switch flipping in Ash’s head, like a hidden door flung open, and suddenly Ash had been _ravenous_ . He hadn’t ever _wanted_ like that before, but maybe that was because no one else had ever _cared_ about what _he_ wanted. His relationship with Shorter, the loyalty and affection he’d held all those years for his friend, had stepped out into a brighter light where Ash could finally look at it fully, honestly, see the facets he’d ignored, denied, pushed aside out of fear and worry and ignorance. Ash simply hadn’t been able to _understand_ how something like this could be anything but one-sided and poisonous and devastating.

But because of Eiji, because of Eiji’s pure, open, welcoming heart, Ash was finally able to see the bright and clean side of _Shorter’s_ heart that he’d instinctively turned away from since the beginning.

And that night, that _first night_ when he’d let himself _want_ , Shorter had shown him how beautiful, how magnificent, how _pleasurable_ sex could be when it was with someone you— someone you _loved_ . Because Ash had gotten off before, had orgasms before, but he had never burned like that before - with desire, with emotion, with a _fierceness_ he hadn’t known was possible.

Shorter and Ash had _made love_ and it had been perfect.

Ash can’t stop staring at Shorter’s face, now, in the dawn light, tracing over the soft curve of his cheeks and the little upturn of his nose and the tender, simple smile on his lips, even in sleep. Some of his hair is caught in the ring on his brow, delicate, violet strands looped around the silver studs, and Ash can’t help but reach out and brush them free, stomach churning from the realization of how close he came to losing this. Losing _him_ . If they’d been any longer getting out of Dawson’s house they would have been caught and they wouldn’t have been able to rescue Eiji and Shorter quickly enough; the needle had been _centimeters_ from Shorter’s skin when Ash had broke the doors down with his guys and Sing’s at his back and started shooting.

Mere seconds longer at any step of the way and he’d have lost Shorter forever. Ash’s hands still can’t stop shaking as he rests his palm against Shorter’s cheek and sends up a silent prayer of thanks to the gods he’s still pretty sure don’t exist, but that he might be willing to have faith in if they keep giving him gifts like this.

Shorter’s eyes flutter open, then, and his brow furrows, reaching up to brush his thumb under Ash’s eye; it comes away wet. “What’s wrong?” Shorter mumbles, voice slow with sleep.

Ash’s breath hitches and he blinks rapidly through suddenly blurry vision. “It was too close,” he rasps, throat tight. “Too close.”

“What do you mean?” Shorter asks, still so quiet and endearingly slurred.

“You almost—“ Ash stops, swallows and finishes on little more than a whisper, “I almost lost you.”

Shorter’s eyes widen in understanding and then he’s pulling Ash into his chest, long limbs wrapping around him like a cocoon. “I’m okay. I’m right here, we’re both okay,” he murmurs, slinging his arm over Ash so he can curl his hand around Eiji’s shoulder and tug him close all along Ash’s spine.

“You got there in time, Ash,” Eiji says, sounding only slightly more awake, but soft and reassuring. “You saved us both. We’re okay.”

Ash can’t do anything but cling to them, ragged sobs trying to choke their way out of his chest as he shakes and shakes and _shakes_. It was too close. It was far too fucking close and the absolute terror still hasn’t left him, might not ever leave, not quite. It will come back to haunt him in the dark hours of the night when his dreams always turn sour and bitter and cold.

But the two of them, warm and close, are so careful with the fragile heart he keeps behind steel doors - soothing its frantic patter and calming the ragged breaths in his lungs and curling gentle hands around his soul, stoking life back into the flickering embers with soft, intimate kisses. Ash slowly, steadily, breathes deeper, feels his hands stop shaking, and he and Shorter trade a few chaste and lazy kisses, mouths slack and soft.

Eiji keeps his arms wrapped around Ash’s chest, nuzzling into his spine, and so the morning goes, Ash cocooned in their protective, loving shell of limbs and blankets and kisses, until Ash can take a breath without it slicing through him, until he can close his eyes and not see needles and blood and white tile coffins. Until all he feels is the sun on his skin and peace in his heart and Eiji and Shorter beside him.


End file.
